Not Too Scary
by NuclearRose
Summary: All he ever wanted was the best for his little girl. One-shot, slight Tiva but not intended that way.


**A/N:** Right, this is my first ever NCIS fic, but I had the idea and it wouldn't go away. I just had to write it. There is quite a long A/N at the end concerning several (kind of) important things so having that being read would be appreciated. I hope you enjoy reading this.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Seriously, I own absolutely nothing, not even any merch from the show... I don't know what would have happened I did own the rights to all this, but I get the feeling I would be riiiiich xD

* * *

Ziva David was annoyed; there was no doubt about that. Firstly, she had been muttering to herself in Hebrew for the past five minutes and glaring at her co-workers for no apparent reason. Oh, and on top of that, she had been doing the one thing that seemed to calm her – cleaning her gun. She had also left several knives on her desk in full view of the rest of the team. It was really beginning to get on everyone's nerves… not that anyone dared interrupt her. An angry and uncontrollable Ziva was not good!

Except, it seemed, a certain Tony DiNozzo was either slightly insane, or had a deathwish. Or possibly both.

"Erm, Ziva?" he asked hesitantly, and she looked up.

"What?" she snapped.

"Are you alright? You look kind of upset."

"Well, yes, Tony, how do you think I am feeling? I have just found out that…" she trailed off, leaving Tony utterly confused. What had she just found out? He cautiously walked over to her desk and perched on the edge of it, being careful not to sit on one of the many knives displayed there.

"What's wrong, Zi?" he inquired softly. He could tell that something was really bothering her and he didn't want to embarrass her by making her tell him where anyone could hear. "You know I hate it when my ninja chick's upset."

She glowered at him. "Do not call me that!" He was surprised, as she usually didn't mind his nicknames for her.

"Right, wrong thing to say, sorry Zi," he said quickly, trying to redeem himself. He lowered his voice. "But seriously, what's up?" It took a lot to make Ziva even a little miserable. Mossad had trained her not to show any emotions so when her carefully constructed façade broke away even the tiniest bit, there had to be something wrong.

She stared up at him with her big brown eyes, the tiniest hint of fear there. "The Director wants to talk to me," she whispered, and he frowned. Why would she have any reason to be scared of that?

"Director Shepard?" She's not that scary, is she?" he asked, trying to calm Ziva and release some of the tension that surrounded her.

"Not Director _Shepard_," she said, a note of hysteria rising in her voice, and Tony gently put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her, not realising that it probably wasn't the best idea to go anywhere near, let alone touch, an irritated assassin. "Director _David_! He has asked for time in MTAC specifically to talk to me!"

"The Director of Mossad? That's not a bad thing, though, is it? You're a Mossad officer, surely he just wants to check up on you, make sure you're doing okay, right?"

"But… but…" she gripped Tony's hand and pulled him down so his face was just inches away from hers, ignoring the surprise that was clear on his face and what the position they were in would look like to any observers. "He is not just the Director, Tony, he is my father. He has every right to tell me what I can and cannot do." She paused and lowered her voice even more. "What if he demands that I go back to Israel? I cannot leave here, it is my home, it is where I feel safe. In Mossad, in Israel, I am just a… a pawn in my father's game, that is the right phrase, yes?"

"Yes, Zi, that's right." Any other time he would have told her she was wrong and had a laugh about it, but he could sense that it really wasn't the best idea right now.

"I cannot leave here," she repeated, looking as though she was holding back tears. Tony's heart almost broke at the sight of the strong, independent assassin so insecure, yet he found it almost good to see as well. Not the "haha-Ziva's-not-as-strong-as-she-likes-us-to-think" kind of good, but the "Ziva's-finally-letting-me-see-who-she-really-is" kind of good. He gently wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair.

"It's okay, Ziva," he whispered straight into her ear. "I'm here for you, whenever you want. Don't be afraid." She smiled gratefully at him, before pulling out of his comforting grip. He paused, before saying "Zi, do you really think that _our_ Director will let _your_ Director have you back without a fight? You may be a crazy ninja-" this time Ziva didn't protest, even letting out a tiny laugh "-but you're turning into a brilliant agent and-" he paused and grinned "-one day you'll be better than me!" This time she laughed loudly before stopping abruptly and sighing.

"I suppose I should go and talk to my father," she said resignedly.

"Yes, Zi, go. You'll be okay. I'm here for you," he said again, making sure that she knew he really meant it. She stood up and moved towards the stairs leading up to the place where she would speak to her father for the first time in several months.

"Thank you," she murmured as she walked past him.

He just smiled as he watched her walk away from him with the grace and elegance of the dancer that she had been as a child.

* * *

Now, she wasn't just annoyed, she was scared. Ziva hated to admit it, but Tony's comforting had helped her… slightly. She didn't want to be seen as weak, but even she knew that sometimes she had to let other people in. Weakness was one thing, but shutting her friends out and not telling them the things that were bothering her was different. Her father would never allow it in Mossad but here it was accepted and seen as a good thing to ask for help. She was sure she could remember Abby saying to her once "a problem shared is a problem halved" – and she was certain she had got that one right – but it wasn't something she was used to doing.

Ziva had never liked her father much – they had never been particularly close. He had trained her and Ari to be monsters, killers, nothing more, and she had no doubts that he would have forced Tali in the same direction had she lived. It was her mother or Ari that she had gone to when she needed someone there for her.

And on that note, everything was her father's fault.

It was his fault that Ari, her kind and loving older brother, had gone rogue when he was working undercover with Hamas.

It was his fault that she had not been allowed to mourn the death of Tali, the little sister that she had never seen grow up.

It was his fault that she had not seen her Mother anywhere near as much as both of them would have liked because of her training.

It was his fault that she had been sent away from Israel – and would be his fault if she was ordered to return there.

It was his fault she was a member of Mossad in the first place!

Ziva realised she was standing at the door of MTAC with it open… not a good thing. National security and all that. Not that anyone important was on the screen there. Just her father. She sighed and stepped in, slamming the door shut in the way that most people would only have expected of Gibbs and making the technicians jump in their seats. She grabbed a headset and stepped into the middle of the room, not saying anything, just waiting for her father to say something first.

"_Officer David_," he said, speaking in Hebrew.

"_Director_," she replied in the same language. "_Is there a reason for this discussion?_" she asked with a slight cold edge to her voice, and she thought he heard him let out a quiet sigh, similar to how he had when she was a troublesome child, before she knew what he did, before she had even heard of Mossad.

"_I know I could simply have phoned you if I wanted to speak to you, but I chose not to. What I have to say to you should not be said where other people could listen._"

"_You are aware that there are probably more people listening here then there would be had you simply picked up the telephone?_" There was a note of annoyance in her voice.

"_Why do you think I speak Hebrew and not English, Ziva?_" He stopped, as though he was considering whether or not he was going to say what he wanted to. "_My daughter, I do not want you to be afraid of me._"

"_I am not afraid of you, Father. 'Ziva David is afraid of no-one',_" she repeated the words that he had instilled in her when she was just seventeen and training to become the best Mossad Officer anyone had ever seen. Her father's words, not hers.

"_It is good to see that you still remember what I taught you, Ziva_," he said, with a slight smile on his face.

"_How could I ever forget?_" she asked him drily, and he paused and chose to ignore the question, however rhetorical.

"_My Ziva, do you know why I treated you how I did? Did you ever know?_" It seemed to be a rhetorical question of his own, but she answered him anyway.

"_You wanted me to join Mossad, Father. You treated me how you did so that I would be tough, and become your best man, even though I was just a girl._" Her voice was bitter and her anger that she had a hard time controlling anyway was beginning to show through.

"_No, no, my Ziva! It was never like that! I wanted you to be tough, and to join the Israeli Army, maybe even Mossad some day, but I was __never__ intentionally cruel to you! I wanted you to be young and carefree, with-_" his voice faltered as he mentioned the names of his dead children "_-with Ari and little Talia, but I wanted you to be careful and exposed to the world. Being the daughter of the Director of Mossad, as I was sure to become then, was a dangerous thing to be and I wanted you to be safe. When you volunteered to join Mossad I was delighted but I never wanted you to think that I had forced you into doing what you didn't want to do. Now, sometimes it seems to me as if I did even without meaning to, and maybe it does to you, but please, my Ziva, __did__ you want to be in Mossad or did you do it to please me?_"

Ziva was shocked. She had never imagined that maybe her father had not been trying to force her to join Mossad, the career that had been in her family for years.

"_I knew you wanted me to be in Mossad, Papa, but that did not affect my decision. I knew that after I had served my years in the Army I would join Mossad. It wasn't because of anything that you had said to me, I promise. You taught me that too, 'never make a promise that you can't keep'. I've never broken that rule, either._"

The pair of them both smiled, and somehow half an hour managed to pass without either of them noticing. It was hard for both of them to keep conversation going as if it was purely for business, although neither would admit it. And the other thing Ziva wouldn't admit to? Talking to her father had felt wonderful. It felt like so long since they had talked, longer since they had talked in peace, and even longer since she hadn't felt some kind of aimed directly towards him.

Suddenly, her father twisted his head away from the screen, presumably to someone who had just appeared at the door of his office and groaned quietly so that only Ziva could hear. He barked off several rapid orders and turned back to look at her again.

"_I'm sorry, my Zivaleh, but I must go now. I have been informed of a crisis_," he said, sounding slightly annoyed but clearly not directing his annoyance at her.

"_Any chance of your telling me of this crisis?_" she asked him, teasing gently. Any other time she would never even consider being so daring with him, but the light-hearted conversation had left both of them in a good mood. She knew she could get away with it.

"_No_," he said with a laugh. "_The best Mossad Officer there is as well as my gorgeous daughter you may be, but this is between myself and the other Officers concerned._"

"_Ah, Papa, I suppose I must accept that I cannot always be in on everything that you do. I must let you continue with your work, you are a busy man, Papa._"

"_Yes, Zivaleh, I am, and I must leave you now. I hope we can speak again soon, my child._"

"_I'm not a child any more, Papa._"

"_Oh, I know, Ziva, but you will always be my little girl. I love you, my daughter._" There was no hesitation in his voice.

"_I love you too, Papa._"

* * *

They did not say goodbye to each other. It was too final, like an ending. She hoped she would have to never say goodbye to anyone she loved again, and she loved her father, even though sometimes she truly hated him.

As her father cut the connection and she walked out of MTAC, Ziva smiled, and said to herself, mimicking her mother's voice as she remembered her saying years before "Now, Zivaleh, what was there to be so terrified of? That was not too scary, was it?"

* * *

**A/N:** So… as I said before, my first NCIS fic. What do you think? I have several things to say so please keep reading even if this A/N does turn out to be ridiculously long.

I only started watching NCIS a few months ago, right from the beginning. I am currently watching Season 5, so I haven't officially met Eli David yet, I am just going by other fics and what I found on various fan sites. Sorry if I got anything horribly wrong.

Ziva's many names: I have seen it in several fics where various people call Ziva "Zivaleh" as a term of affection. I have no idea why, but I think it's nice so I used it. Again, sorry if I got this really wrong.

I imagine this as being set sometime at the beginning-ish of Season 5, but I guess you can think of it wherever you like... also, this can be read as Tiva if you really want it to, but it wasn't intended that way. I wrote it as a friendship fic, but again, I suppose you can read it however you like.

Okay, several seemed to turn itself into three! Anyway, please review. I would love to hear any positive feedback that you have for me, and constructive criticism is always welcome.


End file.
